


Crumbling Walls

by candiedrhododendrons



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: A New Dawn, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-26
Updated: 2014-11-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 02:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,389
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3792499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/candiedrhododendrons/pseuds/candiedrhododendrons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hera Syndulla and Kanan Jarrus have been working together for only a few months now. Hera, wanting only to invest time in the fight against the Empire, has always been in control—of her ship, of her tactics, of who joined her crew, etc. Now she is frustrated with the lack of control she has over her heart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crumbling Walls

“Wait. Are you asking me what I think you’re asking?”

Hera’s cheeks flushed a deeper shade of green, but otherwise her blank expression showed no sign of embarrassment.

“What?” she tugged nonchalantly at the fraying sleeves of her black gloves. “You know what I mean. Just to catch up on our insights, discuss any new or dazzling intel. I just—”

“Oh. So you’re asking me to join you for some sort of crew meeting.” Kanan looked up at her briefly from the cushioned seat as he fastened the buckle on his left boot. “ _Just the two of us_.”

“Yes. Of course. What else would I possibly be asking you?” He glanced up at her again, this time with the hint of a smile on his lips. She met his eyes for just a moment, long enough to communicate annoyance. Then she turned to face a storage cabinet. She opened it and took out some lens polisher and a cloth.

Kanan sat up, leaning forward, and watched her. “It just sounded as if you were asking me to join you for dinner, is all.”

Hera’s face flushed again and she laughed shortly. She was glad to be facing the other direction now. She offered her usual response to what she figured was only playful flirting. Their normal banter exchange was meant only to keep the dark moments as light as possible.

“As if there was any time for things like that. You know, with a turbulent war happening and a life threatening ideology controlling the galaxy.” Briefly she wondered, _Can a Jedi sense nervousness with that mysterious force?_ as she deftly soaked the rag with polish, and busily scrubbed a pair of spare goggles on the shelf.

“Anyway, you’re always telling me that I should loosen up, so I’m loosening up.” She shrugged. “And we barely cross each other’s path anymore, what with being sent on separate missions left and right these days, with me on one planet and you somewhere on its moon. I rarely see you for longer than an hour when we’re both on the Ghost. You’re almost never ho— _here_ ,” she corrected herself. “And we’re supposed to be a team, right? We just need to catch up. That’s all.”

“Hera.”

“And I thought we could eat while we talked. We’ll be a stronger force for the rebellion if I knew more about the challenges you were facing and vise versa. And who doesn’t like to eat good food when they’re discussing politics? That’s something _you_ say all th—”

“Hera.”

“Yeah? What.” She glanced at him.

“Well, I think those goggles are glossy enough, don’t you?” He nodded at her hands, which were dripping with lens cleanser all over the counter. The goggles were soaked and so were her weathered gloves.

“Oh!” She dropped the cloth onto the countertop and began wiping up the mess. “ _Blast it…_ ”

Kanan stood and he whipped a clean cloth from the open cabinet on an adjacent wall.

“Here.” He walked over to where she stood to help her catch the dripping solution.

“Thanks,” she said, clenching her jaw. His arm brushed against hers, again and again, while he swept the cloth around the counter, and she noticed this sent an electric current surging through her veins. “I’m a bit fidgety. Just tired, I guess.”

She wrapped the goggles with the cloth and tossed them onto a table before removing her gloves. The black material was sure to be stained. She sighed, and shoved her hands into pockets, frustrated with her own clumsiness and that ridiculous heart of hers that seemed to beat irregularly whenever her partner was within a few meters of her. He was standing so close to her now, she feared it might rupture from pumping so quickly. When did _that_ start? It was so inefficient to feel this way. Again she hoped he could not sense it.

“Rough assignment today?” Kanan asked her, as he dabbed the last of the puddle and tossed the rag into the small hamper at the edge of the counter.

“A total carbon flush,” she replied. “Fulcrum’s directives haven’t been very fun at all lately.”

Kanan nodded, wiping his hands on the sides of his pants. He smiled down at her, leaning his hip against the counter. “Well. I can’t wait to hear all about it at dinner.”

Hera looked up at him and he tapped her shoulder with his fist.

“What, Syndulla? Did you think I _wouldn’t_ be thrilled to go to some fancy place with you and vent about being a part of your rebel cause? Which, by the way, has given me plenty to complain about these last few months.” He returned to his seat to put on his shoulder armor. “But, next time, love, if you want to go out on a date, _just tell it to me straight_.” Briefly, he grinned at her.

Hera rolled her eyes and didn’t bother stifling the smile on her face. “Ugh. You’re a hopeless flirt, Jedi. I can’t compete.”

“Hey, easy on the J word. And no, not with that game, you can’t.”

Hera sucked her teeth. “Just be back on the Ghost before this planet’s sunset. And we’ll fly to the city,” she retorted, before turning on her heels to head back towards the cockpit.

A sigh. “Hera.”

She stopped.

“Listen, I’ll come home more often. I promise. Just know that if I’m not drowning my angst in ale, I’ll probably be a grieving mess.” He said it in his usual amused-with-everything tone, but an apologetic bitterness could be heard underneath his words.

Hera frowned. She was hurt to know what he was up to when he didn’t return to the ship right after accomplishing an objective, and also surprised that he was even willing to confess it. (Not to mention, she was relieved he wasn’t finding comfort in other ways.) She was both touched and frightened by his using the term “ _home_ ,” as she almost did, to describe where they were. _What_ they were. The intimacy that developed between them in only a few months was suddenly clear and alarming to her. Her plan was to invest all her energy, all of her thoughts and her feelings towards the movement…and this business with Kanan Jarrus was starting to throw her off. He was growing attached to her. And maybe she was growing attached to _him_ , despite herself.

“Messes can be cleaned  when we work together,” she said simply. She hoped he knew that she meant she’d be willing to take on whatever defect he had. “Thank you for being so honest…We’re partners, Kanan. I’m here for you, just as you are for me. I hope you know that.” She didn’t dare face him, lest he see her blush for the third time that afternoon. “And you can grieve as much as you need to on my ship,” she added softly.

Kanan snickered defensively. Whatever wall he’d let down a few seconds ago rising back up between them. “Don’t you worry about me, partner. You should know by now that I’ve mastered the skill of laughing in the face of tragedy. I won’t need any help.”

Hera turned, about to apologize, thinking she had inadvertently offended him, but he raised a hand.

“You, on the other hand,” he added. “You always have a shoulder to cry on. Like you said, _we’re a team_.” He stood up with raised eyebrows and exhaled. And she smiled halfheartedly.

His shoulder brushed hers again as he walked past her towards the door.

“See you tonight. Try not to gawk when you see how I look all cleaned up,” he said, winking. He went out into the hallway, no feeling attached to his words, that emotional barricade firmly between them once again, deeper words replaced with light hearted flirting.

“Before the sun sets!” she called through the doorway as she heard the ship’s door lowering.

“Yes dear!” And he left.

And she stood trying to remember what it was she planned to be doing at this point of the day. Something in the cockpit right? Or was something jammed in the engine room? It wasn’t easy thinking, with his safety always on her mind, her shoulder still buzzing, and her brain struggling to convince itself that nothing new was going on in her heart.


End file.
